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chipjrwibignaturals · 6 months

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I will say— i haven’t gotten to it yet, because im bad at this, but— i want to state my surface level thoughts when it comes to chip Dying

bc like to me chip has always been a cockroach. no matter what he goes through, it won’t kill him. in some ways as a cruel cosmic joke, a cyclic tragedy, he’s destined to forever exist. he’s been given an impossible task, to find arlin, and he’s not allowed to stop. he’ll just keep going and wallowing in it aimlessly forever, he’s not allowed even the decency of death. in the same way he breaths air, chip jrwi keeps on living — it’s just what he does, how he is.

and it felt extra validated with when he considered quitting while Gill was gone. he felt like his own presence was bringing down the people around him, that it was his fault gillion was gone— so he was going to leave to save them from himself and just… sail. he knows leaving means giving up his only real tangible lead to find arlin, what he wants, but he also can’t risk them so he’ll just take a boat and… wander listlessly. Hope for maybe something good to stumble upon. god has cursed him and his work is never finished, etc etc.

so when i first heard abt Chip’s situation i was admittedly… not super into it? definitely contributed to why i got so far behind tbh, i wasn’t looking forward to it. it crashed hard against my perception of chip’s character & his narrative. hes destined to be a tragedy and that tragedy is because he’s alive

and I’ll be the first to say depending on handling i still may dislike the choice BUT I’ve made my own way around to enjoying the choice (even if it wouldn’t be my first choice)

first off, in some ways i feel like chip was also of the belief that he would just… keep living. no matter what happened to him. he’d “have a plan” and find some way to slip out, then restart and try again. he knows the universe seems to love to watch him suffer, so he just…. doesnt really think he can die. at least not like that.

it’s the very violation of the expectations I established, experienced in and out of character. it feels abrupt, wrong. that’s not what was set up for him! …until you realize that he changed first.

since the black rose, chip was seated with the fate of forever searching and trying to capture a past he can’t have. but it’s only through his experiences with jay and gillion and his OWN crew that he… grows past that. he makes peace with what he’s lost, or at least starts to, and allows for new growth in that spot. he’s regained a family to rely on, he’s growing comfortable and moving on. he’s losing the tragedy-angle of his own life— so he dies. his fate is absolute and it is black, it is a tragedy no matter what. this is the narrative retaliating against him for trying for better than he was allotted.

it’s worse too because he’s so close to finding arlin, to being able to finally put all this behind him and get closure. it’s all salt in the wound. leading him on, letting him regain his hope, giving him peace… only to snatch it all away. what a cruel, cruel joke.

#jrwi spoilers #again. this is all my own brain bullshit I haven’t seen JACK of what im talking abt #im only done up to like 103 #but. too bad you get my Thought Vomit #riptide spoilers #anyway! tldr he can’t be killed Unless he’s actually happy #bc the universe is Fundamentally against him. they gave him a bad life and when he fixed it into a good life they took it from him #bc chip👏 isn’t👏 allowed👏 nice👏 things👏#i mean he Can eventually. he fought for what he had before he showed he can go against the design #but he has to persevere against all the setbacks like this. he has to fully and totally Destroy Fate not just defy it

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quotidian-oblivion · 1 year

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Congratulations on your 100s! That is super awesome!

Since you asked for a prompt, I've got a fluffy and a whumpy idea, but ofc don't feel obligated to do either:

Whumpy: Someone Dangerous discovers that 9yo Timmy knows who Batman is...

Fluffy: Damian collecting a series of increasingly non-domesticated animals and naming them after his siblings. When asked, he gives an embarrassing reason (the turtle is called Drake bc he moves at the same speed Drake's neurons fire), but the internal monologue reveals something really sweet (turtles are slow and careful, reflecting Tim's strategic nature)

Congratulations again, and have fun writing whatever drabble you choose!

Me, munching on an easter bunny chocolate at 3:04 am in the morning and reading this: *whisper-squeals* Thank you *voice cracks*

This is honestly one of the best day (night) of my life??? Not only a 100 followers on Tumblr and Ao3, but an ask from sardonic-sprite? LORD have mercy on me because I'm about to melt.

I love the prompts so much!!! I think I might do both since it's just gonna be drabbles and I don't need to go too deep (bcuz honestly, I'm exhausted from the last ten nights of Ramadan where some Muslims stay up all night). So... Imma just post it here then post them both on ao3 when possible.

Thank you so mcuh sprite 🥲 I appreciate it.

WHUMPY:

Pluviophile

Tim hated the rain.

The wet clothes, the soggy socks, the squelch of the shoes, the water showering from the sky and barging into people’s lives; an uninvited guest. Not to mention the increased risk of pneumonia and hypothermia for someone who didn’t have an umbrella or a warm(er) jacket. He really should have been more prepared.

But his camera bag was torn from last night’s mishap with the drunk muggers and he really wanted to go out tonight because Nightwing was coming to Gotham after three months and he and Robin always got up to the best of shenanigans when together. He had nearly half a wall filled with printed pictures of their endless pranks, most of them on Batman himself.

Looking at the pictures, it wasn’t hard to imagine that Batman was secretly a softie. That Bruce Wayne was secretly a softie.

Tim sighed and tugged the not-thick-enough jacket closer around himself, leaning back on the fire escape rails and gathering the motivation to get up and leave the snug, rare dry spot under the roof to go catch his bus. It was time to call it a night, but Tim didn’t want to leave.

Rain loudly splattered onto every surface, sounding like a million bins dancing to a jig.

“Should you be out here?” a voice called from below.

Tim startled, but kept still. He had plenty of experience being silent and invisible. Maybe the man below was speaking to someone else?

“I am addressing you, child.”

Maybe there was another child?

“We’re the only two people here. Everyone else is fast asleep.”

Tim gulped and didn’t move, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Very well.”

There was silence. It stretched out for several minutes, only the sound of thudding rain echoing in the alley. Tim stopped counting at 560. He finally released a long shaky breath and opened his eyes, only for thunder to boom and lightning to strike, showing a large man sitting right in front of him.

Tim gasped, but his breath got caught in his throat, so a squeak came out instead.

The man grinned, his bushy black beard parting way to a scary smile. Two scratch scars on his face scrunched up as his eyes crinkled in a smile. “Hello,” he said, clearly audible over the storm.

Tim gulped.

“I won’t hurt you if you take a moment to listen to me.”

Tim’s hands started shaking.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” The man shifted, sitting in a criss-cross position on the fire escape and taking up most of the space, leaving only a few inches gap between the two of them. His dripping coat released water, spreading the puddle enough to touch Tim’s legs. Tim pushed himself further into the fire escape rails.

“My name is Vandal Savage,” began the man in a deep, calm voice. “And I have come to seek help from you.”

Me? Tim wanted to ask, but his throat was still clogged up.

“I came upon a source that said that you were a rare bright child. An interesting and possibly dangerous specimen.”

I’m not an animal for you to bid, Tim wanted to retort, but his voice failed him once again.

“I’m sure you’re busy, so I’ll keep this brief.” Vandal Savage leaned forward. “Is it true? That you know who the Batman is?”

An unexpected sound pulled itself up his throat, resembling something between a squeak and a growl. Tim winced.

Vandal Savage eyed his face, then his body, scrutinizing his body language. Tim shifted uncomfortably. “Come with me,” he then suddenly said.

Tim stilled once more. But this time, his throat finally started doing its job. Tim swallowed and hoarsely sounded out a very confused, “What?”

“Come with me,” Vandal Savage repeated.

His breathing was morphing into short bursts of undiluted panic. “Wh— Why— What if I say no?”

Vandal Savage tilted his head. Then he smiled.

Chills crawled up and down Tim’s spine and he knew that he was doomed.

Savage did not say anything else, he stood up and jumped down the fire escape, landing on the ground with a soft ‘squelch’. He took one last glance at Tim before walking away.

Tim sat unmoving for a few seconds, catching up on his breath.

He wasn’t going to follow him. No way. That was crazy. He was going to go home. Mhm, he was going to go home and huddle up in his cozy bed, plop some headphones on and blare music loud enough to keep the memory away. Savage didn’t say that he was going to hurt him if Tim refused, so it should be safe enough. He wasn’t going to follow Savage. He wasn’t.

Tim took a deep breath and picked up his camera, shoving it into his bag. Curse this whole night. Couldn’t he have waited until tomorrow to take some pictures? It wasn’t like Nightwing was going to leave after just a day. He wasn’t his parents.

He hoisted his bag on his shoulders and climbed down from the fire escape. He looked down at the ground, ignoring the rain and the chills still running down his spine, when he collided with a fully solid surface. He looked up to see Savage, smiling down at him. A Cheshire cat smile. Except without the teeth.

Savage did not grab his wrist to pull him towards where he wanted to go. He just turned and walked.

Tim was not following him. He was not.

His steps fell behind Savage, squelching through the gray, dirty Gotham rain.

Suddenly, a flash of red and yellow got caught in Tim’s peripheral vision. He stopped walking. So did Savage.

Robin and Nightwing were talking animatedly with each other on just the next roof. Batman was nowhere to be seen.

Tim stared at them, mentally urging them to turn around, look here, please! But they never did. He didn’t know if Savage would hurt him if he yelled or tried to get their attention. He could, however, kick the empty can in front of him.

Trying to be as casual as possible, he brought his foot slightly backwards and punted the Pepsi can, making it crash against the fire hydrant at the side.

Thunder just then decided to clap against the sky. Lightning followed suit and Robin and Nightwing disappeared. The can came to a stop.

“I love the rain,” Savage said, smiling at the sky. “I’m a pluviophile. It’s so peaceful, isn’t it?” He turned to Tim.

Tim felt his bones seize with dread and he looked down, resigned.

“Come,” Savage prompted, stalking forward, his feet barely making any noise.

Tim followed, his shoes filling up with water and soaking his socks. He didn’t know where he was being led, but at least he could enjoy his home city one last time.

FLUFFY:

Regarding The Workings Of A Zoo

“What. The fuck.”

“Tt. I knew I had accurately named my turtle.” Damian threw some more turtle feed into the pond. “Drake is a most excellent turtle. Much unlike his predecessor.”

Tim turned to Dick. “Are you seeing this?”

Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “Seeing what?”

“Damian replaced me with a turtle.”

“It’s not my fault that his movements fire faster than your neurons, Drake.”

Dick gave an insecure smile. Tim glared at him and folded his arms.

“What about the chicken?” Steph asked, popping another grape into her mouth from the large bowl she was holding.

“Her name is Todd.”

Dick’s snort quickly turned into a cough.

Jason looked up from the frog. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” Damian simply said, patting Drake the turtle’s head as it neared him.

“What’s the frog then?” Jason frowned.

“Brown.”

Steph choked on a grape. Tim thumped her back. “Now that’s mean,” she said once she stopped coughing.

Damian shrugged.

“Who am I then?” Dick asked, sounding curious but hesitant at the same time.

Damian looked at him straight in the eye and declared, “Meerkat.”

The four of them bulged their eyes at him.

“And where is it?” Dick questioned.

“He’s on his way. I needed time to prepare a room for his mob.”

“What are we, a zoo?” Tim scrunched his nose.

“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes, closing the turtle pellet jar. “I must take my leave now. I have school. Do not touch my pets while I am away.”

They watched as he walked away haughtily, nose stuck up in the air.

“Tell me why Bruce allowed him to have pets again?” Tim voiced out loud.

“He survived a League attack without killing anyone. It’s actually a pretty big achievement,” Dick replied.

Jason groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This family is fucked up in so many ways.”

Steph kicked him in the shin. “You’re one to talk.”

------------------------------------------

Dear Mother,

I am required to write this letter to you as part of my school assignment, but not post it. It should be handed back to my so-called “teacher” at the end. I did not originally have a topic, but after much deliberation with Father, I finally settled upon writing about my new pets.

This isn’t meant to be shown to anyone, so if someone reveals this information, they will be found by GCPD in a street corner as a cold corpse at precisely midnight there will be consequences.

Firstly, I have Drake the turtle. He is a very nice and gentle creature with eyes that constantly smile though they are dark. I’ve named him Drake because he is slow and careful, much like the real Drake’s strategic nature. Drake the turtle at first did not like me when I neared him at the beach. However, once I showed myself as a friend and proceeded to help him with the plastic bag around his shell, he did not like leaving my side.

Secondly, I have Todd the chicken. From the times I have seen him at the manor and the rare occasions I go to his safehouse when injured, I have observed him constantly worrying and fretting about the tiniest thing. He worries whether someone has eaten, or drunk water, or has a scratch, or even a paper cut. Grayson once described him as a “mother hen”. And Todd the chicken, when I saw her, she was fretting over her chick who was rejecting a worm. Immediately, I made the connection.

Then, there is Brown the frog. I told her that I named him Brown because he was as ugly as her, but that was not the truth. Once during our other school assignments, I discovered that frogs symbolize rebirth. Brown truly made up her own identity, by herself, might I add. I… I still struggle with my past, Mother. I am ashamed to admit but…

In any case, Brown has gotten over that obstacle. I wish she would teach me how. Brown the frog on the other hand, is extremely bubbly and never stays still. It was accurate of me to name him after Brown.

Finally, there is Grayson the meerkat. Grayson is confused, he does not know if it is an insult or a compliment. He does not know that meerkats have one in their mob look out for danger, constantly keeping the others safe. I’ve seen Grayson scan an environment like the arcade before letting me roam free. He is worried, and does not know how else to show. I am hoping he will learn to calm down once in a while. Like Grayson the meerkat who always joins in to play with his mob no matter what.

I know you are not very fond of pets, Mother. But I still think about Noora, the bird you once gifted me during my stay at Nanda Parbat as a child. I am thinking of getting another bird, but… I am not so sure. I feel worried that I might lose it if I get another bird. Much like how I lost Noora to Grandfather. I hope you are keeping her grave clean as I am not there to do so myself.

I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Mother. Including bringing me to Father’s family. His whole family.

Kind Regards,

Damian

These were supposed to be drabbles. Not around a thousand words long! In any case, it's 6AM and my eyes are burning. I got a little too into things and, uh, yeah finished both of these in one sitting.

Thanks so much for the prompts again, Sprite! I loved them!

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